


Strength

by Tvieandli



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tvieandli/pseuds/Tvieandli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Talia needs to be strong, even when she wants to be there for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strength

Damian’s head turned to the side, tears falling from his chin. Talia felt her heart clench in her chest at the sight of that liquid staining the training matt. He growled, swiping his forearm across his eyes as if it were just sweat, as he got back to his feet.  
She was firm in her resolve. Steadfast, with her feet planted in the ground. She did not run to him. Weakness, she reminded herself. She could not show weakness. If she pampered him, or coddled him he would be like cotton in the wind. Easily blown over.  
He fell down again, and she grit her teeth, as she heard the tiny, pitiful noise she had come to associate with his sobs. He was hurt. Her baby was hurt. Strength, Talia, she said to herself. Strength. She needed to be strong so he could be.  
And he was. Once more, she saw him rise from the matt, face bruised, body trembling. And once more he went for the attack, learning from his failings. Her son was strong, and she had to be strong too. Strong like his father. Strong like the mountains that surrounded them.  
She sat up straighter, watching him. He was so proud. He had been so happy when he heard that she would be watching him train. His eyes had been so wide, and he had almost smiled. That small twitching of his lips had nearly broken her heart.  
She knew she was destroying his life. He would never know love. He would never feel warmth in the arms of another. He would be lonely. She hated herself, but it was for the best. If she showed her weakness- if she so much as wavered in her resolve- it was possible that her father would take him.  
She could loose him.  
A sharp blow connected with his nose, and blood gushed forth, but she did not cry out. Her fingernails cut into her palms, but she was silent. She was strong. He reeled back, but seemed to pay it no heed. He was watching her. Watching out of the corner of his eye, and she could tell he didn’t want to disappoint.  
Their eyes met for a split second, before he screamed, and brought his fists back down in another bought of hostility.  
Her son was strong, and she needed to be strong too.  
But that wouldn’t stop her later. This knowledge wouldn’t stop her when he was tucked into bed, and she snuck into his room, to run her fingers through his hair, and apologize. It wouldn’t stop her when she whispered her love, and begged the forgiveness of her sleeping child. It wouldn’t stop the little moments of affection she robbed from the world.  
She was a mother, and she loved her boy.


End file.
